Iron County register. [volume] (Ironton, Iron County, Mo.) 1867-1965, 1887-04-21


pie, who had boarded with Miss Smith
tor three successive summers, find
ing in the quiet of this secluded
village an enjoyment that no crowded
watering-place could give them.
lad had seen very little of them,
and only noticed that the lady was
rather stout and pleasant-faced, while
the gentleman was also stout and
rather jolly. The name was curiously
familiar, though, and he racked his
brain in vain to think where he had
heard it.
Tad always had his liberty on Sat-
urday afternoon, and, borrowing Mr..
Kenneth's big. fat-bottomed boat, he
had invited Joe Whitney, Polly Flagg
and the dog Bounce to 60 after lilies in
Bixport pond-a beautiful sheet of
water, not far from Deacon Whitney's
'There's Mr.. Mason and his wife al
ready" said Polly, glancing ashore;
''they always put up some lunch and
start for the pond just as soon as they
get fairly settled at Miss Smiths"
"And there are those two Boston
girls that are boarding at Widow Simp-
son's-with Mr.. Forrest" added Joe,
with slight chuckle, as he remem-
bered the bitten apple.
"COme ashore and have some lunch,
young folks" called Mr.. Mason, who
was a great favorite in Bixport, be-
cause, as they said, she nor his wife
put on city airs-if they acre worth
half million dollars"
So the boat was headed for the shore,
and, as it touched the beach, Polly,
with both hands full of long-stemmed,
fragrant treasures, jumped ashore
followed, more slowly. by Tad and Joe.
"JOhn, dear, mill you look at those
lovely lilies!" exclaimed Mrs. Mason;
and, at the sound of her voice, it all
came back to Tad-the Pullman car,
and the night journey to Boston be-
hind Mrs. John G. Mason's chair, shell
tered by Mrs. John G. Mason's cloak.
How funny it was. to be sure!
The little party gathered round the
lunch-basket, under the shade of some
delightfully."- tall pines, and began to
discuss rather substantial lunch. At
a little distance were the Misses Baker,
two very nice girls of culture, from
Boston-and, having said this, it is
perhaps unnecessary to add that the
younger wore eyeglasses, and had
brought volume of Ruskin for light
reading, while her sister, with artistic
tendencies, was seated under a large
white umbrella before an easel, making
a sketch of Bixport pond in oils. MIR.
Forrest, who represented himself as of
one of the first families of New York,
was most deliberately dressed in a cool
and becoming boating suit of cream
colored flannel; and when he arose
from very green messy log on which
he had been sitting, the effect of color
was so striking as to draw an audible
snort from the observant Joe Whitney.
"Say, Mr.. Forrest" he called, with
his mouth full of sandwich, 81 wouldn't
set down much in them white clos
they're all streaked up behind now; be-
sides, there's lots of bumble-bee' s-nests
round here"
Mr.. Forrest, who had turned very
red, did not receive the suggestion in a
kindly spirit.
young man." he said, loftily, ''allow
me to say that your coarse familiarity
is very unpleasant-havet the goodness
to attend to your own affairs
"A1 right" replied Joe, with wink
of exquisite meaning directed to Polly,
who shook her head at him warningly,
and, after another attack on the eat
ables, he sat in silent meditation.
"Got a pin, PollyP" he asked, in a
low tone of voice, as he wiped linger-
ing crumb or two from his lips with his
coat-sleeve.
what do you want of itP" suspi-
ciously returned Polly.
"Why-I want it!'' was the unsatis-
factory reply. "
Here's one, Joe," said Mr.. Mason,
with, regret to say, somewhat hui
morous twinkle in his eye.
"Now, John" expostulated his wife,
as Joe, taking it, rose to his feet and
strolled off, "what made youoyou
kno,o that boy is always up to some
kind of mischief"
But Mr.. Mason, who had stretched
himself at ease on the green sward.
with his straw hat over his face,
seemed suddenly to have fallen into a
deep sleep, not unpunctuated by an
occasional snore; so Mrs. Mason, lean
ing back against tree-trunk, famed
herself languidly, and chatted with
Polly, who was making a ily-wreath
for her shade-hat, while Bounce lay
looking on with lazy interest. Tad.
hugging his knees, which were drawn
nearly up to his chin, sat little dis
lance of, thinking how singular it was
that, in big world, he should again
have met the owner of the fur cloak,
and wondering what she would say if
she knew the part she had played in
helping him along on his way to Blk
port.
1t was one of those delightful sum-
mer afternoons when one feels disin-
clined to do any thing but dream away
the idle hours. The clear, unruffied
surface of Bixport pond reflected the
drifting white clouds overhead. and the
tall, whispering pines which bent over
its margin, as faithfully as some great
mirror. Far off, at the other end, a
solitary loon sent out his quivering cry
from time to time, while now and then
the shrill note of the locust cut through
the warmth and stiffness of the air with
monotonous persistency. The murmer
of Mr.. Forests voice, as that gentle